


objection!

by angelicxi



Category: Naruto
Genre: (sort of), Dressing Room Sex, F/F, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Strap-Ons, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelicxi/pseuds/angelicxi
Summary: bridal shopping sucks, especially when the girl you've been in love with for so long is marrying someone else. Ino consequently decides bad decisions shouldn't be restricted to Saturday nights. — AU-ish, smut.





	objection!

**Author's Note:**

> my only excuse for this is, I've been marathoning "Say Yes to the Dress" on-and-off for the past couple of days. this is thus self-indulgent as fuck and I make no apologies. I do hope you enjoy the filth, though; I know I did, eyes emoji etc.

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“I still can’t really believe it,” Hinata murmurs, letting her fingers slide down the smooth skirt of a ballgown. the touch is tentative; fearful, almost, even though this is a display spare — if she squints just right she can see all the little places where hands more unkind than her own had left tears in the fabric. _Such a pity,_ she thinks, a little mournful. _This is top-shelf silk, even I know that._

 

the bridal shop is a territory far out of her comfort zone, what with the opulent faux-Greek architecture faceting the spacious interior: red tapestry is everywhere, thick and probably real velvet, and the heavy floors are definitely actual marble – she knows it when she sees it – and just, wow. _This must’ve cost a ton to build._   she can't help it — she grimaces.

 

the Hyūga may be a lineage of nobles-turned-business-tycoons, but they _are_ cost-effective.

 

behind her, Ino scoffs.

 

“Yeah, me either. I don’t _want_ to bring myself to believe it. You, marrying that irremediable _fool_.”

 

she says the word with such virulent contempt, Hinata has to smile.

 

“Now, that’s not a very nice thing to say, Ino. What has Naruto ever done to you?”

 

“Why!” Ino says, exclaiming pointedly; and in an overly-dramatic gesture she drapes herself across Hinata’s back, holding an unfair height advantage in her seven inch heels. “He's only stolen from me the most beautiful girl in the city. Country. _World!_ ”

 

Hinata blushes. “You’re e–exaggerating.”

 

“You’re so cute when you stammer,” Ino whispers, leaning in to steal a chaste kiss. “But not cute enough to keep me from being bitter about it.” here her tone turns grave. “Seriously. He ignored you for _years_. And then you did a clean, straightforward confession, _which he proceeded to ignore for two more goddamned years._ Of course it wouldn’t sit right with me; and Kiba almost punched a clean hole in the kitchen counter when we got your call, y'know.” she pauses to shudder. “I don’t even _want_ to think about what Shino has been ‘cooking’, really.”

 

pale lilac eyes widen, and Ino finds herself thinking, _She is so unfairly beautiful, in an angel unaware_ _kind of_ _way._

 

“...I didn’t know.”

 

a dismissive wave of the hand: “Don’t worry too much about it.” she’s always so _quick_ to turn her temperament around a hundred and eighty, you have to wonder how she never dizzies. “You’re way too young for stress lines. More importantly — have you thought about what kind of silhouette you’d like?”

 

“Um. Well.” Hinata pinks. “N–not really...”

 

“Mind if I pick some out for you, then?”

 

you can’t say no to _those_ eyes. you really can’t. (she’s tried. she really has, on multiple occasions.) besides, her fashion sense is impeccable.

 

so Hinata says, “That’d be lovely,” smiling wide. she knots their fingers together and gives them a light squeeze. “Thank you.”

 

Ino momentarily wonders what would the other patrons think if she just went down on her right then and there. _I s’pose they wouldn’t appreciate it nearly as much as I would._ she shakes herself out of the stupor, and smiles her best service industry smile.

 

“Anything for you.”

 

_Anything at all. Preferably Naruto’s empty blond head on a pike; both of his heads, really._

 

she breezes through the aisles while Hinata lays down on one of the couches in the lounge, feeling terribly and utterly misplaced. they didn’t book an appointment with a consultant; Ino’d sooner cut off her arm than let someone have the honor.

 

_Nobody knows her body the way I do._

 

once she has a satisfying selection to get started with, she returns.

 

Hinata has to marvel how she holds them all — the plastic wrapping must be so terribly slippery.

 

“Woah...that’s, um. A lot of dresses.”

 

“Only nine!” she chirps.

 

Hinata laughs, her head thrown back a little. the sound of it is open, mellifluous; sweet enough to make you feel your teeth will rot out. Ino is so disgustingly in love she thinks she’ll vomit.

 

“Shall we?” she asks, nodding towards the fitting area.

 

finding a free room is surprisingly quick work.

 

“Do you ever think about how _naughty_ a consultant’s job is?” Ino observes, watching Hinata peel off her skirt. “You know a person for less than ten minutes and you’re already stripping them down to their almost-bare ass.”

 

“That’s—” Hinata starts, trying to suppress a giggle, “—that’s such a twisted way to think about it, Ino.”

 

“The only twisted thing here is that you chose to take off your skirt _before_ you took your top.”

 

this time, she does laugh. “I’m such a heinous criminal, aren’t I?”

 

“Truly despicable.”

 

she’s wearing clear strap switch-ins with her favorite bra, and in quite the funny paradox, Ino’s mouth waters while suddenly going completely dry.

 

_I’m so glad I don’t have a dick. Sweet Jesus, this is what the boys call a motherfucking raging boner._

 

the first dress she has her try on is a nouveau toga, a pretty thing cut mostly from chiffon; and while the empire waist of it does wonders in underlining her generous bust, it is otherwise quite underwhelming.

 

“What do we think?” Ino prompts, though her tone says it all.

 

Hinata shrugs. “Eh.”

 

that encapsulates it rather well.

 

they go through three more dresses, Ino gradually easing her into things with more _oomph_.

 

“I think I’ll go for a mermaid silhouette, after all,” Hinata says, once safely out of a very pink A-line gown. she pauses, furrowing her brow in an expression of absolute concentration. “Though I’ll need _really_ high heels.”

 

Ino laughs. “Get in my shoes and let’s try it, then,” she says, and rummages through the remaining starters for a particularly pretty Morilee number. “This one doesn’t have that much flare, but let’s see how you feel about it.”

 

saying ‘it’s a bit of a tight fit’ might be something of an understatement.

 

“It feels, um.”

 

“Like it’ll burst?”

 

Hinata probes the sides of the bust. “Mhm.”

 

“I wish I hadn’t quit design school,” Ino says, wistful. she runs her fingers down the curve of Hinata’s back, making her shiver. “I could’ve made you an original. One of a kind, and all that. None of this whack-a-mole, try and fit business.”

 

“That would’ve been really nice.”

 

 _Not as nice as your ass in this thing,_ Ino pointedly refrains from saying. instead, she sighs: “Right? Anyway — let’s get you out of this.”

 

which is a lot easier said than done, turns out. the dress had only been on her body for a few minutes, but it had already left indents in places; angry red lines across the underside of her breasts and over her hip line. Ino finds herself terribly apologetic.

 

_I should’ve known it’d be the wrong size._

 

“Do you want to take a break?”

 

Hinata sighs, deeply relieved. “Yes, please.”

 

she sinks into one of the lounging chairs, pumps off and hair slipping slowly undone.

 

Ino stares, and stares, and stares.

 

then: “Say, Hinata.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I think I’m going to ruin our friendship.”

 

she doesn’t leave her time to answer.

 

the curve of her mouth is such a sinful, sweet thing; Ino presses down on it, a silent, desperate plea. she’s on her knees, whole body trembling, lust and fear mingling into one — and, surprisingly, Hinata relents.

 

“We shouldn’t,” she whispers, yet her arms are snaking around Ino’s neck. “We really shouldn’t.”

 

“But do you want us to?”

 

“God, yes. _Yes._ ”

 

there's so much passing back and forth between their lips. Hinata lets her teeth scrape on the underside of her tongue, and Ino thinks she could write a saga from just the way that sends a river of fire down her spine. she presses closer, tasting all the things left unsaid that line her friend's – lover's – mouth. _Such an aching thing,_ she thinks; _All of her. I want to make her forget everything. Even herself._

 

“He doesn’t deserve you,” she breathes, sealing the words into the junction where her jaw meets her throat with an open-mouthed kiss.

 

“I know,” Hinata murmurs. she’s almost crying, now; from pleasure or shame or just the overwhelming tumble of it all, Ino doesn’t know. “I know, I really do. But I want him so much, Ino. So much.”

 

“ _Want_ him or _love_ him?”

 

“Both. Neither. I–I don’t know. I just—” she presses her hand to her chest and squeezes. “It just _hurts_.”

 

Ino kisses the tears off her face. “Then I just have to make you want me more.”

 

she lets her fingers trail down Hinata’s sternum, almost reverent; and follows with her mouth, leaving a damp, jagged line of red-hot kisses.

 

_God. I want to swallow her entire._

 

she stops below the navel, curving her hands around to rest on the slopes of Hinata's hips; both their breaths are coming out so shallow, now.

 

“Can I?” she asks.

 

not trusting her voice, Hinata nods. the offending garment is removed within seconds and thrown off to the side.

 

“Did you know? This is the set I find looks best on you,” Ino muses, not fully expecting an answer.

 

_Solid indigo and lace appliqués._

 

a smile: “Who do you think I am, Ino? Some sort of seductress?”

 

“At this point? Yeah.” she presses a kiss to her exposed sex, delighting in the shiver it elicits. “A little minx — though it’d be great for me if you turned out to be a succubus.”

 

another smile: “L–let’s find out, then, shall we?”

 

“God, you really are so fucking cute when you stammer.”

 

she’s so _wet_ , Ino feels her tongue grow heavy; _Well, then. Thank you for the meal._

 

drinking her is easier than breathing; sweeter, too. she buries her face in Hinata’s cunt with all the grace of someone bowed in prayer — and for all intents and purposes, that’s exactly what she is. dutiful to the dull throb in her own loins, she takes it slow; alternating asymmetrically between licking and sucking at the labia and thumbing the sensitive nub of her clit. she wants to savor this: every gasp, every shiver, every last drop of honeydew coming out of her.

 

Hinata squirms, breathing through the mouth in short, soft gasps.

 

“Ah...d–don’t just...tease me like that...”

 

were the circumstances different, she’d slow down further; but as it is she picks up the pace, somehow unsurprised to discover that giving in to her is the easiest thing in the world.

 

she comes with her hands fisted in Ino’s hair, back arching off the chaise in an exorcism of pain.

 

“Fuck,” she breathes, seeing white.

 

even from below, she is a vision: breasts bulging out just so at the top of her brassiere’s cups, nipples hard carmine and _swollen, a rosé flush blossoming across the pale expanse of her skin._

__

 

Ino loves her that much harder. “Should we stop?”

 

“No.” a vehement shake of the head; “God, no.” Hinata tugs her up to the chaise, impatient hands tugging at her clothes. “G–get naked, Ino. _Now_.” midway through stripping Ino of her blouse, she pauses. “Do you still keep sex toys in your handbag?”

 

“I do, actually.”

 

“Do you, um.” she pinks, suddenly shy. “D–do you have a strap-on?”

 

Ino’s grin is positively lecherous.

 

“I _do,_ actually.”

 

a little bit of rummaging brings up the Ziploc bag in question.

 

“This is so surreal,” Hinata murmurs, but the way her chest heaves says she doesn’t particularly mind screwing her best friend in a dressing room.

 

she laughs. “Isn't it? Here, help me—”

 

Hinata’s tongue curls on the slit of her sex, ravenous. it leaves her breathless.

 

“I don’t remember you ever being this aggressive,” she observes. “Not that I mind.”

 

“We were fifteen the last time we did this,” Hinata says, quietly. “I didn’t know myself too well back then. N–not in _this_ sense.”

 

slipping in the strap-on almost sends her over the edge.

 

“Sorry; was that too sudden?”

 

“No—” inhale, exhale, inhale. “No, I’m fine. Come here.”

 

she kisses her, deeply; and for once plainly heartfelt, without ulterior motive, content to simply taste the way their flavors mix on the tongue.

 

“Say, Hinata?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Do you think we could make this work?”

 

the shape of her lips turns bittersweet. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

 

_Still polite enough not to lie to me, I see._

 

“Let’s end it with a ‘bang!’, then, m?”

 

she laughs, and the sound of it spreads through the air like perfume. Ino feels herself grow intoxicated.

 

sinking into her is so easy, it’s almost unfair; and it isn’t because of the condom. that’s just run-of-the-mill latex, and this is _special_. there’s something to be said about perfect fits and star-crossed lovers and a thousand other poetics, but everything melts down to a barebone reality: two soft bodies with a world of hurt caught in the dangerous gravitas between them.

 

she fucks her down into the cushions of the chaise, hard — thinking, _At the very least, I want you to think of me on your wedding night. When he’s inside and around you I want you to remember this and cum to the memory of my face._

 

“If you keep doing it so roughly, I—” a gasp, sharp and high, and she’s pushed over the edge again.

 

her orgasm takes her out with the force of a physical blow; and Ino could spend her whole life watching the way her body arches off the chaise, hands cupping her breasts so hard it _has_ to hurt.

 

“N–not fair,” she huffs.

 

“Very few things are.” a pause. then: “Are you alright?”

 

Hinata smooths hair away from her face; her eyes pupils are dilated, but otherwise her eyes are perfectly clear.

 

“I don’t think I can walk right now, but otherwise, quite fine.”

 

Ino presses a kiss to the side of her throat, just under the ear. “...say; think we can go one more round without getting caught?”

 

“That depends,” Hinata whispers. “May I ride you?”

 

“I can’t fucking believe you’re using polite speech even in this context.”

 

she laughs, and laughs, and laughs. “Oh, Ino...”

 

“Seriously, who does that?”

 

.

.

.

 

* * *

 

 

**_fin._ **


End file.
